


here's to life (and dreamers and their dreams)

by for_within_the_hollow_crown



Series: drift back to me (I’ll do the same) [7]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 22:36:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11541843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/for_within_the_hollow_crown/pseuds/for_within_the_hollow_crown
Summary: "I think," Jemma said. "I think that I'm in love with you, Leopold Fitz. It's been going on for some time and then the other day - it all makes sense now. You knew it before I did, didn't you? All the interrupted sentences, all the times you looked as if you were about confess something and never did. You know what I'm talking about, don't you?"Fitz nodded. "Yes. Yes, I know exactly."He had wanted to tell her for days and had never really found the courage to do so. Even that afternoon, under the clouded sky, he had thought about running after her and finally admit his feelings, no matter with what outcome.





	here's to life (and dreamers and their dreams)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [agentofskyeward](https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentofskyeward/gifts).



> Unbeta'd.

[Yorkshire 1911]

 

Jemma had not been lying when she had told him that none of them was really fastidious in doing things properly. It was true that it was nothing but a small party made of close friends and family, but Fitz had heard such an excuse in the past and still been met with grandeur and pompousness - footmen as the butler had always been there serving food with their white gloved hands, firmly and carefully holding the silverware, filling the glasses when needed. Not now. Much to his own comfort and surprise, there was no one but them sitting around the old oak tree, the food on the table at their own reach, the jugs water right in front of them. Centuries old traditions had been dropped in favour of something that appeared more down to earth, a picture of changing times something that appeared almost impossible after so many years, a sudden change prompted by everyone's love for the Simmons' children.

It appeared to Fitz, as he sat there listening to Will's elder sister Edith talk about the latest news from London, as if in that moment with all of them sitting next to each other, as if the whole ordeal was nothing but a meeting of worlds - Jemma and Tom's with the abbey and the splendour of the room they were in, everyone else's by the simplicity of their actions and food; the boundaries between the two of them, that contrast that had revealed itself right away, fading away under the uncaring looks of the diners and their chattering studded with laughter.

But it wasn't only the setting that appeared strange and unsettling to some extent for so were the diner. There were inside jokes and old memories to which Fitz was a stranger, leaving him unable to catch up and fully understand. Laughter could be prompted and remarks could be made, but there was a chasm filled with history that he was unable to fill. Conversation would go on and then land on common ground - back and forth, like a pendulum - to which Daisy now had access and he didn't for Fitz knew nothing much at all. He knew Will and ever since Fitz could remember Will had spent at least two weeks during the summer there - he'd come up to Yorkshire and then he and Tom would catch the train back to school together, spending the last days of summer holidays in each other's company. He still remembered them both - all knees and elbows, their features still carrying some lineaments of their childhood selves - running around and screaming, often followed by Jemma.

The three musketeers, his mother used to call them, encouraging him to at least try to tag along and befriend them instead of spending his days on his own or downstairs with the staff. But how could he at the time, not yet ten, explain that he and Jemma were bitter rivals if not nemesis? No, at the time spending his days with her had been out of the question and only Daisy's addition to the Simmons' household had kindled their friendship and set the base for the truce of a rivalry that was now long forgotten. Looking at them now one would have never guessed that the first year of him in Yorkshire was also the year he and Jemma had spent hating each other against everyone else's advice. Even to them those days long gone appeared distant and impossible, the current status of things having replaced all. He and Jemma had once been enemies, the notion itself was laughable, but so at the time would have been the idea of them being best friends in the world.

Ten years and a lot of history happening, yet the only people he had really become friends with were Daisy and Jemma. Somehow, Will and Tom had always been some of strangers, older, wiser, much more fashionable and worthy of admiration and all their conversations had been reduced to nothing but _how do you do-s_ or remarks about books or politics, or a piece of news. With Tom he was now working, but Will was just a shadow in their lives of whom Fitz knew nothing about - the unfolding of a life at dinner quite an interesting matter.

"Are we all done?" asked Tom, hands already on the edges of the table as if ready to push his chair back and get up, expecting everyone to follow.

"I say," said Lavinia. "Can I have another of those scrumptious meringues? They taste the same as the ones you can buy at Selfridge's and I do so love them."

"Of course, and I'm sure the cook will appreciate the compliment."

Lavinia, Will's youngest sister, smiled sweetly before taking two more pieces of dessert and a third one that she put directly into her mouth. "Mother always takes as there on Sundays if she's not working that is."

"Lavinia-" hissed Edith. "Not with your mouth filled. You're not two anymore."

"I'm terribly sorry."

"Never mind."

Three became four and soon everyone had another round of meringues as silence fell and they just sat there enjoying the sweet taste in their mouths. Fitz had never been at Selfridge's and he wasn't quite sure to care about it and to know exactly what it was, but Lavinia's chattering about it was quite interesting for she shaped her story in a quite interesting and intriguing way that it made it impossible not to pay attention.  It seemed as important and serious as the next argument, told in the very detail, memories coming alive in the room they were in.

"We'll ring for tea later if anyone wants some," explained Jemma as she got up.

Everyone followed, laughter leaving all their throats as their desires to leave the room at once formed a blockage at the door. Daisy went first along with Edith, followed by everyone else - the small party closed by Jemma and Fitz walking side by side, stealing secret glances from each other and private smiles only for the other to see, a continuation of that never ending game that had held itself at dinner in front of everyone else yet at the same time hidden from the world.

Fitz felt Jemma's hand slip in his and looked at her. Her fingers rested on her skin, fingertips running on the back of his hand before her fingers curled against his ever so slowly, as if she was savouring every second of such a brief contact made in the penumbra of the hall. There was thrilling and exciting along with the joy brought by having such small moments of intimacy, of being close, in that leaping of boundaries that now was starting to become much more easier and effortless. How far away that same afternoon now appeared to be when Jemma had walked with him towards his office, fingers touching and no apology, when he had opened the letter and told her that she had indeed gotten into Oxford. It seemed now that such a state had always existed, time already ahead of them, a whole new world and life opening, bringing along infinite possibilities all of them theirs to take.

Jemma was going to Oxford.

Futures were being shaped.

He was utterly in love with her.

What they were doing was not allowed.

She  finally took his hand, her palm was cold against his, her grip firm. She squeezed him and slightly pulled him back, turning around to look at him and getting closer to him, their arms now touching.

"Wait," she whispered into his ear and stopped walking.

Standing behind, they watched the others walking away - Daisy and Edith standing close, carrying on a discussion that had been started at dinner by Jemma and Lavinia, but that still left place for additions and new subjects to expand with arguments; Will, Tom, and Lavinia in front of them laughing about some joke they had not caught. Five figures, distancing themselves, with the gowns and fabric of the girls flapping around their legs in clouds of colour in the penumbra under the arcades, beside the Corinthian pillars that sustained the balcony that faced the hall, until they disappeared, turning right into the waiting room.

"Come with me."

With their hands still entwined, they both stepped back and turned around and Fitz followed Jemma a couple of meters until they were standing in front of one of the windows. The rain had long stopped falling and yet there were still drops of it on the glass, running down or standing still, waiting to be dried out.

And the sky was clear - pitch black and cloudless, studded with stars that shone bright above them and the moon in on one side, barely visible from where they were standing. It had something dreamlike, the white light on the desert and empty garden, the pebbled road that disappeared into the distance, in neat contrast with the inside of the abbey all sharp edges and vividness, old and imposing, real. Fitz turned around to face Jemma who was still looking outside as she smiled; she appeared at peace and relaxed, one thing with the intimate atmosphere around her both now and at dinner.

The most interesting thing, Fitz had always believed, was that she always seemed to appear out of place in Yorkshire - it all lay in the details, but it was there to see if one paid attention enough. There was always something missing, something that gave Jemma away despite her confidence and despite having been born and raised in such a position. They were, he had noticed during dinner, the same details that gave Daisy away or Lavinia and Edith and came down to a never ending attempt to overpass some boundaries that in a proper scheme of things should not have been crossed. They were all too keen to share an opinion, for example, a word too much, a remark that shouldn't have been made. They were not outsiders, but they weren't insiders either - stuck in-between they were all making their best in adapting which was such an interesting process to witness, for the time always came when carefulness would be dropped.

"I'm glad we can have this moment for ourselves," said Jemma.

"We've been very bad, you know. Your guests are going to judge us terribly," joked Fitz.

Jemma looked at him and grinned, tilting her head to the side in a teasing and cheeky attitude. Then, with the most serious voice added "They're Tom's guests and Daisy is family. Besides, I doubt anyone would be surprised, at this point Will and Daisy have both witness worse and I'd be a fool to think that anecdotes of Yorkshire have never been shared at the Daniels' dinner table."

They both laughed, unable to hold it back it bubbled up at the back of their throats and came out in a snort.

"What if your parents find out? Or Charles?"

"Charles won't find out, he's at the village fair with the rest of staff. As for my parents, they won't be surprised, they think they have a very odd daughter."

"Not odd, just - interesting."

They turned back and looked outside the window, studying the way the moonlight reflected on the puddles on the ground, the stillness of the air and the peace and quiet of it all, of a half asleep world.

"Let's hope it won't rain tomorrow. The girls and I are going down to the village, it would be a pity to miss the occasion." She paused and then looked at him. "It's magnificent, don't you think? Space."

"Space?"

"The stars and the moon."

"That much I had figured, thank you very much."

"When I was little, papa used to sit outside with me and we'd watch the stars together. He used to tell me the little things that he knew about the matter. I don't know when we stopped, when things started to go wrong probably. No, not wrong, just when life started to settle in I suppose."

"It's hard to imagine your father sitting outside and looking at the stars."

"On those very steps. It was fun and quite fun indeed. Still, I'm glad Daisy's back for some time, it's quite a strange feeling seeing us all grown up, going on our own way, living our lives. Time's running away, sometimes it feels as if I won't ever be able to catch up with it, as if it's happening too fast." She paused. "We'll be gone too one day. Soon."

He nodded. The day would come when nothing but memories would remain, carried on ad kept secret by the ancient walls around them. There they were all legs and elbows running around in the hall, out in the garden squealing in delight, and there was Jemma walking down the stairs wearing pants for the first time the blue fabric moving around her at every movement down in the living room making an entrance under everyone's amused gaze, him arriving for the first time scared and small compared to the grandness of the house and later working there for the first time. It was strange to let it all go one day, move away start somewhere new and exciting.

"I, for one, cannot wait to be at Oxford living my life. At least I won't be stuck here anymore." Jemma paused. "Fitz, will you write to me?"

"I was about to ask the same thing."

"So will you?"

"Of course."

His mother's voice echoed in his memory, her voice on that hot afternoon the previous summer. What was it that she had said? To be careful before he ended up with nothing but a broken heart. Fitz wished and very much so that he could step back, but they were in too deep now. There was no going back, and their relationship could lead to heartbreak as much as happiness. Whatever the outcome, the realm of impossibilities was as distant as ever; there was no getting back now and this exploration was thrilling, enjoyable, made of little steps that were starting to disclose the bigger picture.

Her hand on his cheek, her thumb brushing his skin lightly and softly, regular and constrained movements. They looked at each other and all he could think about was that they shouldn't be standing there in pale moonlight in front of a window when anyone could walk pass them.

The sound of laughter erupted from the waiting room.

They shouldn't or couldn't stand there. Someone could walk past. Jemma stepped closer and they turned around to face each other still with hands touching, still with hearts beating, and with their breaths now mixing. Jemma smiled and leaned forwards until their foreheads were touching.

"Fitz- I'm glad you made it tonight and I do so hope you're enjoying yourself."

"I am, very much indeed."

"Excellent."

They closed the small gap between them, mouths meeting midway. Jemma's lips pressed in his, nothing beyond a light touch, far away from the line of indecency, hands still held to themselves.

They could be seen, they could be seen, they could be seen. They could be seen, this was not allowed, there was no way to justify and explain away what was going on between them. They were vulnerable and exposed and should have stopped. This wasn't some dark corner of the house, a three seconds long kiss stolen behind everyone's back, nor was it a walk in the garden far away from everyone's eyes. This was something audacious, daring even from which, if caught, they could not walk away.

Daringly Fitz run the tip of his tongue on her lips and she parted them tips of tongues touching playfully in exploration a sighing sound forming at the back of his throat, Jemma's hands wondering to his cheeks so as to cup them and hold him close. As they parted their breath mixed, and she looked up at him from under her eyelashes the smile on her face growing brighter softened her features and lit up her eyes.

"I think," Jemma said. "I think that I'm in love with you, Leopold Fitz. It's been going on for some time and then the other day - it all makes sense now. You knew it before I did, didn't you? All the interrupted sentences, all the times you looked as if you were about confess something and never did. You know what I'm talking about, don't you?"

He nodded. "Yes. Yes I know exactly."

He had wanted to tell her for days and never really found the courage to do so. Even that same afternoon, under the clouded sky, he had thought about running after her and finally admit his feelings, no matter with what outcome. She could have told him that it was all jolly well fine but that they should rather go back being friends, that their relationship had ultimately led to nothing and was reduced to nothing more but stolen moment. In fact, he had feared such an answer, holding back from saying words that could not be withdrawn, that would forever hang in the air between them. There was no going back, three words to shape their future and direct it in a new and different direction and now there they stood, with Jemma confessing her love with the same rationality and tranquillity she would have explained any other matter.

"You should probably say something."

"I'm sorry, I've - I can't believe I'm hearing such words."

"Hmm you should get used to them. Besides, you're the one who hasn't said much," Jemma replied teasingly.

"I love you, Jemma. Quite a lot really."

"That's settled then," she said before kissing him again.

Happiness, elation, and the knowledge of reciprocated feelings - that was the kiss. Fitz's stubble under her lips - that too was the kiss. His hand wandered behind her back, her naked skin under his palms, and he held her close and she clung to him, smiling - nay, grinning - against his lips. On top of the world an entire future ahead of them, that was how they felt.

"Jemma?" Lavinia's voice came in a whisper and was filled with hesitance, the fear of being reproached in having interrupted such a secret and intimate moment filled every syllable, eyes looking away quickly head turned towards the wall. They jumped apart, hearts beating faster, eyes looking away.

"I didn't- I didn't see anything and I didn't-" Lavinia quickly added, one syllable bonding with the next, the words hardly distinguishable.

"It's alright," Jemma replied with a smile, stepping away from Fitz and walking towards Lavinia. "What is it?"

"We wanted to open your piano, can we do it?"

"But of course, you could have asked Tom."

"We did, and he said to ask you."

It could have been anyone. Anyone but Lavinia and they would have ended in serious trouble. "About what you saw-" Fitz and Jemma spoke in unison, a hint of fear in their eyes.

"I didn't see anything. Even if I did, the secret with business is to mind one's own."

"Thank you."

They followed her down the corridor, one on either sides far apart from each other. They dared not to speak nor to look at each other, the comfort and joy of the previous love confession overshadowed by Lavinia's interruption. How could they know, Fitz wondered, if a sixteen year old girl would keep their secret? Maybe Lavinia was shy, but it took nothing to let the wrong word slip out and get everyone in the most frightful trouble.

"What a beautiful piano you have," said Edith as they walked inside the waiting room.

"Do we? If it were for me, you could take it back to London with you."

"Now, Jemma," said Daisy. "That's no way to speak to your present."

"At least there would be someone to play it regularly."

"You don't play?" asked Lavinia.

"I do, but I'm afraid my piano skills are abysmal."

"To say the least," added Daisy. "It's one sour note after the other. How much of it is done on purpose I'm afraid we'll never know."

"None of it!"

"Daniels, old chap, I'm afraid that it's up to you to entertain us," said Tom. "Do play us something."

"Yes, Will, do display your musical talent to us. Make mother proud."

Everyone laughed, but there was information missing that made Fitz feel yet again like an outsider. He looked at Daisy, but she was going through some music sheets at the end of the piano, Edith and Lavinia beside her. She too had changed, inevitably so and not in a bad way; she had become more comfortable and independent.

Looking at them now in that room one would never imagine that they had shared a past that their lives had once been much more entwined than they were now. Their old selves were no longer shining through, they had changed and grew into different people and yet there was some comfort coming through everlasting bonds of friendship and love that had survived the years passing. And what a group of bright young things they all had become - with sharp minds, humble, so ready to discuss any type of matter and wanting to change the world. They all had their futures ahead of them, life in shaping, works in progress for nothing was yet settled. All of them with their lives that only sometimes crossed roads, all of them with their private stories and private words that were sometimes meant to be revealed by accident and caught in glimpses.

How much, Fitz wondered, did the others care? Lavinia had seen them kissing and had not looked at them since. It could be for any reason, really, and the others surely must have made assumptions for his and Jemma slight delay. Daisy knew, he had written to her. Tom perhaps. Will and Edith probably couldn't care less, for it was something that one was either part of or didn't know at all - no in-between.

Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata filled the air. The notes lifted themselves into the air as Will moved his fingers swiftly and effortlessly over the keyboard, a look of complete and utter concentration on his face, eyes not lowering once to the keys but always remaining fixed on the music sheets in front of him. He appeared one with the music, so far away from them all, uncaring of their gazes as they sat on the sofa and arm chairs - Fitz had never seen him like that, there was something new entirely about him, as was for them all he supposed.

He looked himself around. There was Daisy sitting comfortably on the sofa, legs stretched out, eyes closed as if paying attention to nothing but the melody and her own thoughts. Tom in one of the armchairs smiling. Edith standing next to her brother, turning the sheets when needed. Lavinia swinging her head back and forth, an almost imperceptible movement, hands tapping along with the rhythm. And Jemma, sitting half turned so as to be able to lean her arm on the top of the sofa's backrest and her head leaning on top of it.

"William," said Daisy. "Not to ruin the mood or anything, but could you please just jump to the third movement least I fall asleep here and now?"

Laughter erupted again and pages were turned, the sound of paper being shifted and rearranged filled the air and kept itself in the background of all of the talking, speaking words that they would hold back as soon as the music started again. Then, as the first semiquavers started to fill the air and the melody in presto agitato to start, Fitz looked at Jemma and allowed himself to think with no fear and no regret about their exchange of words in the corridor, so brief and so long wanted. Jemma turned towards him and smiled, the corners of her mouth slowly rising, and they shared a knowing look. Decisions had been made, a future was ahead of them, and in that moment - with their friends there and the music playing in the background - it looked as bright as they wished it to be.


End file.
